The Truth
by emjoy2000
Summary: A songfic about John after the Fall. He talks about life post Sherlock and buys a radio. Quite depressing really. The song is The Truth by PNAU you should listen to it! Warning: Rated T for Suicide things I'm not very good at this summery stuff, if you couldn't tell


**Warnings: Contains suicide stuff.**

** Also characters belong to the amazing A.C. Doyle and the BBC I'm just playing with them :)**

**The Truth**

"In three words I can summarise everything I've learned about life: It. Goes. On."

_- Robert Frost_

.

.

.

_You say you lost your lover _

_And that you miss your best friend_

_Till I found there's none in you_

_Wings of stone I thought you were the truth_

_._

_._

_._

John had purchased a radio, it made up for the lack of noise in the flat now.

That's what he told himself anyway.

He had really bought it because he couldn't stand his own thoughts anymore. Better to have old women talk about their roses than to listen to the thoughts of a broken man.

Because that was what John was now.

_Broken._

He had had a relatively normal day at work. Sarah being overly sympathetic as usual. God he hated it.

'Just because Sher- he's gone doesn't mean she has to treat me like an invalid. That goes for everyone else too. Walking around by his side I got a lot of attention, not all good either I have to say. Weeks after the event the tabloids came out with 'Army Doctor Watson Struggling With Life After Detectives Suicide.'

"Bloody Idiots, of course I'm not going to be getting on fine after that."

Pausing he realised he had been ranting to himself again. He sighed and switched on the small radio, the news was on.

"Three men killed in helicopter crash in Afghanistan..."

'Bloody brilliant', was all John could think while quickly changing the station. If it wasn't the death of his best friend surrounding him, it was the war. They seemed to follow him everywhere now. The limp, a stark and ragged realisation that he was once again a broken man and the one person who could fix him was on the other side of life.

Too far to ever reach or touch again.

The nightmares too, making him wake up in the small hours of the morning sweating and cursing for one dreamless night where he could truly be at rest.

But he knew that night was not probable in any future he could see.

He had started using sleeping tablets, it frustrated him a lot; sitting on the kitchen counter mocking him by showing him that he couldn't get his life together. He'd become a failure.

Outside he seemed to be coping and living a normal life, but inside him it felt like his soul was edging closer to forbidden precipice every day and he needed to find a release.

A rope you could say,

to stop him from hitting the bottom of it if he lent too far.

But he was a doctor and a man who was definitely fine and not suffering at all. That had become his mantra now; he would catch himself slowly repeating

"I'm fine."

When really he was far from it.

He came out of his reverie noticing that the radio was on a pop music station, he decided he would keep it on.

He needed a bit of cheering up.

_You say you lost your lover_

_And that you miss your best friend_

John let out a dry sob.

Lover? Best friend? His mind had instantly run to Sherlock, the dark detective. Had Sherlock really become both?

Now he was gone he wasn't sure, but he knew that Sherlock had his heart in his hand and hadn't let go.

Till that day.

_Wings of stone I thought you were the truth_

Oh god it was all coming back, the fall, the blood, the lies.

His wings of stone couldn't save him; they drove him to the pavement.

And the lies, he knew they weren't true.

Sherlock had LIED to him, he couldn't be a fake; after all they had been through Sherlock was most definitely not fake. So why lie to him, of all people, him?

He slumped to his knees and let out another sob, accompanied with tears this time.

He wordlessly got up from the living room floor and with angry and fearful termination reached for a kitchen knife. He had to end it, he had no life now.

_You say you lose_

_Lost is a luxury baby that you can't choose_

John stopped and listened to the lyrics again. The word _lost_ swimming in his head.

'I'm lost. _Lost._

But I don't have to be.

I've almost brought this on myself.'

Sinking down again he rested his hands on his eyes and cried.

All the bottled up emotions ranging from the fall and the funeral all the way to missing the bus last week. He just let it all go.

The knife, quite forgotten now, was resting to his side.

He didn't need it now, he decided at that moment.

There was no easy way out of life.

_His life_

_will go on._

_._

_._

_.  
_

**Just a bit of a songfic to practice my writing. I'm still pretty horrific at it though. Sorry about _A Convincing Desguise_ to anyone who has read it. I just can't think of what to write next. Like a perminant writers block. I feel like a pretty terrrible writer now. But I will try and make it up! **

**DFTBA and be happy! **

**-Emjoy**


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